


Guess Who's Coming to Dinner?

by spacedmuch



Series: Not Everyone-verse [4]
Category: The Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: Classic trope, Dinner Party, F/F, Hijinks & Shenanigans
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-11-08 00:26:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17970950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacedmuch/pseuds/spacedmuch
Summary: A frustrated Miranda wants to redecorate. A tactless Andy suggests a dinner party instead. Cue one chaotic evening with the return of a few familiar faces.An entirely unnecessary Not Everyone revisit.





	1. An Unspecified Time in the Future

**Author's Note:**

> After seeing some really interesting reviews and comments regarding Pure Shores over the course of writing Take Me to the River, I've decided to add an addition to the Not Everyone-verse to close it out on a lighter, happier note. It's probably advisable that I don't do this, but I'm going to do it anyway. As always, this work will be a WIP and updates will come sporadically depending on free time! Comments and kudos always are always welcomed.

Miranda stood in front of the French windows which overlooked the street, a cup of coffee resting gently in her hands. It was a quiet Sunday morning, the house comfortably silent aside from Andrea’s customary rustling downstairs. Her robe was tied loosely around her waist, her feet bare and hair still slightly damp. She lifted her mug to her lips and took sip, closing her eyes briefly to savour the moment of peace. Sunday was the only time she allowed herself to laze around the house and she had learned, over time, to enjoy it guilt-free. She listened for the tell-tale sound of the front door closing and watched from above as Andrea flew gracefully down the stairs and began her morning run.

Andrea’s determination had been one of the many things that had drawn Miranda towards her all those years ago. It had also been the thing that nearly tore them apart. This morning, the view of Andrea’s perfect stride as long legs propelled her along the sidewalk was a stark reminder of that particular trait. A combination of sheer will and some of the best physical therapists in the country meant that Andrea’s injuries were now invisible to the outside world.

Everything else had healed on its own and life continued on, as it had a tendency to do.

Runway continued to demand much of her time whilst Andrea’s work schedule fluctuated. The publication of her book last year had drawn Andrea further into the public eye, her days filled with guest lectures, televised interviews and op-ed pieces for publications here and abroad. Andrea’s deeply rooted sense of responsibility towards the world and its denizens hadn’t faded, but the journalist-by-trade was becoming noticeably more jaded.

Well, she wasn’t alone in that. 

Miranda finished the last of her coffee and turned away from the morning sunlight. As she glanced around the living room she pondered whether it was time for some renovations. Andrea despised change in the town house, hated the smell of anything new and complained incessantly that it was a waste of money and bad for the environment. Miranda smirked to herself as she imagined the arguments they could have and _finish_ over everything from the wainscoting to the light fixtures. Perhaps a project would be a good distraction from the malaise of this decade. This room alone could keep them on their toes for a _significant_ period of time.

She tapped her fingers against her lips in amusement as she made her way to the staircase. The shrill ring of the landline drew her away from pleasant thoughts and she couldn’t resist an eye roll as she noted the time. The woman was nothing if not predictable. She redirected herself towards the study and swept the old phone up from its cradle. Now _this_ was a room that needed redecorating, however, sentimentality had dictated she would never touch it.

‘To what do I owe this entirely unexpected pleasure?’ Miranda said down the line.

‘You enjoy this just as much as I do, and don’t try to pretend otherwise.’

‘As long as I don’t have to hear you talk about work this week, you know how much the law bores me.’

‘I do, just as much as hearing about that rag of yours bores me, you old dragon,’ Elizabeth Sachs shot back. 

‘Now, now, Liz. People in _very_ fragile glass houses shouldn’t throw stones.’

‘It was a _knee_ replacement,’ Elizabeth growled.

Miranda chuckled as she dropped down into her chair. ‘Are you interrupting my Sunday for any specific reason this morning?’

‘Yes, actually. I’ve decided to fly up next weekend. I’ve been trying to come for the last couple of months but it never seems to be a good time for my daughter, or you, according to her.’

‘We’ve been busy,’ Miranda shrugged.

‘You’re always busy and you’ve turned my daughter into a workaholic to boot.’

‘There’s been a lot of attention since the book, which wasn’t my idea I might add.’

‘ _Perhaps writing about your experiences would **help** , Ahhndreyaa,_’ Elizabeth said, her Miranda impersonation perfected over many years. 

‘I meant a journal, not an autobiography wrapped up neatly in political theory,’ Miranda bit back.

‘Is she taking care of herself?’

‘She’s fine, Liz,’ Miranda said, ‘as you’ll see for yourself. Friday evening?’

‘Yes, if that’s alright.’ 

‘I’ll have the guest bed made up and send a car. Email the flight details to my assistant.’ 

‘Carla?’

‘No.’

‘Edwina?’

Miranda rolled her eyes, already knowing what was coming. She was certain Elizabeth had a list naming every single one of her assistants from the past few years and she enjoyed reciting it far too often for Miranda’s liking. ‘No.’

‘Kristy, Mary, Jane, Bruno, Indira, Lour—‘

‘You’re as hilarious as your daughter. It’s Waseema.’

‘For now,’ Elizabeth laughed heartily.

‘I’m going to enjoy my Sunday now,’ Miranda said, pulling the phone away from her ear.

‘Miranda, don’t be such a—‘

She hung the phone up with the satisfying clunk.

 

*

 

‘I was thinking of calling Carl about the living room,’ Miranda said as she cut into her omelette.

Andrea groaned audibly. ‘I love our living room. It’s perfect, it gets great light and more importantly, it’s _lived_ _in._ Which is the point of a _living_ room,’ she said as she did her cool down stretches against the counter. ‘Why don’t you just…’ she moved to stretch her other quad, ‘…throw a dinner party or something?’

Miranda’s brow climbed into her hairline. ‘What are you insinuating? That I’m some sort of bored WASP looking for something to do?’ she said, voice rising an octave.

Andrea winced. ‘I didn’t mean it like _that._ I meant rather than throw our extra energy into the house, why not throw it at the people we never see. I haven’t seen Nigel in months.’

‘You saw him last week,’ Miranda huffed.

‘At an event,’ Andrea said, rolling her eyes as she dropped her leg and proceeded to sit on the floor to continue stretching. ‘It’s not the same and you know it. All that glad handing bullshit for hours on end.’

‘It’s not like we’ll be doing the physical labour ourselves,’ Miranda said, segueing back towards the renovation. 

‘If you want to fight with me Miranda, you only have to ask,’ Andrea said, looking up with knowing grin.

The knife in Miranda’s hand sliced through her omelette with more force than was entirely necessary. ‘I don’t beg,’ she sniffed.

‘I beg to differ,’ Andrea laughed throatily.

Miranda squirmed in her chair but refused to be baited by the lithe almost-forty-something-year-old who was stretching out long, firm legs all the while keeping her eyes pinned on Miranda. 

‘I’m filthy,’ Andrea said as she began to stand, pulling her sweat soaked t-shirt over her head. ‘Join me?’ she said as she dropped it with a purpose straight onto the floor. She looked full of confidence and far too cocky for Miranda’s liking.

Miranda grinned wickedly as she got to her feet and waltzed over towards the woman that was equal parts bane of her existence and love of her life. She drew her close before whispering, ‘Your mother will be here Friday.’

It took a moment for Andrea’s jaw to drop. ‘What!?’ she squawked, jumping back. ‘M, what the hell!?’

‘I’ll meet you upstairs,’ Miranda said serenely before gliding out of the room.

‘Miranda!’ Andrea barked behind her.

 

*

 

Miranda rolled over and rested her head in her hand, the sweat on her body cooling pleasantly. ‘Well, perhaps a dinner party isn’t the worst idea,’ she noted to Andrea who was laying flat on her back, an arm flung across her face.

‘Sure, M. Whatever you want,' Andrea mumbled. 

'Next Saturday,' Miranda said, nodding to herself as a groan sounded out from the body beside her. 


	2. Twins

Miranda sat on the edge of the bed, fixing the clasp on her bracelet as Andrea slipped into her heels. She allowed herself to appreciate the figure Andrea cut, standing as tall as an Amazon.

‘Too much?’ Andy asked, tilting her foot out to assess the height.

‘Turn,’ Miranda ordered, twirling her finger.

Andrea obliged, and Miranda got to her feet to straighten Andrea’s jacket ever so slightly. The rich green Rosetta Getty pant suit was a good choice, paired with Andrea’s once again long hair swept back into a high ponytail and a pair of white pumps.

‘A red lip,’ Miranda said as her phone rang and she moved to pick it up.

‘You don’t think that’s a little bit Christma—‘ Andrea began, however, Miranda’s look of complete and utter disbelief quickly silenced that.

‘Okay, okay,’ Andrea said, holding up her hands in surrender. 

‘Yes?’ Miranda demanded as she picked up her phone. Her eye moved clinically over Andrea’s ensemble, looking for flaws. It was perhaps a little masculine, but the wide legged trouser and complete absence of anything under the blazer balanced it out nicely.

‘A friend is unexpectedly in town. Room for one more?’ Nigel asked down the line.

Miranda sighed heavily. ‘As long as they don’t work in finance or politics,’ she said bluntly before ending the call.

‘Emily?’ Andrea asked as she rifled through her makeup.

‘Nigel,’ Miranda corrected.

‘Problem?’ 

‘Not _yet_ ,’ Miranda sighed, remembering why she hated hosting. The Met was one thing, but a dinner party in her own home was something else entirely. Thankfully Andrea had talked her out of cooking.

‘I’m glad Cass could come up for the weekend,’ Andrea segued, likely sensing her stress. ‘The girls haven’t seen Mom in a while.’

‘Where is your mother by the way? I haven’t heard her shrieking in the last few hours.’

‘Her and Caroline went out to discuss lawyery things,’ Andrea said as she picked up a lipstick.

‘ _No_ ,’ Miranda said emphatically, eyeing the shade. ‘Also, where is the Pulitzer Prize winning journalist I used to live with? _Lawyery_ ,’ Miranda repeated with an eye roll.

Andrea’s reflection smirked back at her from the mirror as she picked up another shade and waited for her approving nod. It was only Andrea she would allow to distract her from her stress, and over the years the woman had become very good, if not subtle, at it.

The door downstairs opening and the rise and fall of various feminine tones indicated that the Caroline and Elizabeth were home. Miranda watched Andrea’s face light up as Cassidy’s voice reached them from the cacophony downstairs. They saw Caroline regularly as she was currently an Associate at a firm in town, whereas Cassidy was deeply involved in her PhD research at Harvard and as such didn’t come home as often as they would have liked.

‘We’re up here,’ Andrea called out as she moved to the door.

Cassidy appeared moments later, dumping a duffel bag on the floor and flying into Andrea’s arms. 

‘You look amazing,’ Cassidy said with a grin before glancing across at Miranda. ‘Mom,’ she said with a broad smile and she walked over, head tilted slightly in expectation. 

Miranda swallowed against the slight lump in her throat at the sight of her daughter. The quieter, more sensitive of her two girls was well and truly a woman now. She stood as tall as Andrea, long red locks flowing freely down her back. As she pulled her into an embrace she felt herself holding on for a little longer than was strictly necessary. Cassidy had always been the more independent of her two girls, especially following her four years at Cambridge. Miranda saw much of herself in Cassidy’s quiet determination, but also much of Andrea. The woman had undoubtedly had an impact on the girls she had helped raise since they were teens.

‘I’m glad you’re home,’ Miranda said.

‘I’m not that far away now, you know.’

‘Well, you wouldn’t know it given how often we see you,’ Andrea said in faux-accusation.

Cassidy pulled back from her embrace to roll her eyes in Andrea’s direction. ‘I see you every other week. You’re in my living room every time I turn on the TV,’ she started counting off on her fingers, ‘CNN, BBC America, John Oliv—‘

‘That’s not the same and you know it!’ Andrea protested.

‘I enjoyed the interview the other night. You sounded so…’ Cassidy paused for a moment, ‘… _intellectual_.’

‘If only they knew,’ Miranda snorted as Cassidy burst into laughter. 

‘Hey!’ Andrea cried out in protest as Elizabeth and Caroline arrived in the doorway.

‘Are you _still_ not ready?’ Elizabeth said. ‘It’s a dinner party, not the Oscars. They’ll be here in half an hour.’

‘And that’s the outfit you went with?’ Miranda said, raising her brow.

‘Oh hah-hah,’ Elizabeth said, flipping her a middle finger.

‘Mom!’ Andrea cried out in astonishment.  

‘She baits me and you know it,’ Elizabeth said, pointing an accusatory finger at Miranda before throwing up her hands and walking in the direction of the guest room.

‘I left something in the closet,’ Miranda called out after her.

‘Go to hell, Priestly!’ Elizabeth called back.

Andrea raised her eyes and arms heavenward. ‘God, help me get through this weekend. I should have said yes to the home makeover.’

‘Oh, don’t be so dramatic,’ Miranda said. ‘Caroline, can you tell the caterers we’re expecting one more, please?’

‘Yeah, sure. Do I need to change?’ she asked, stepping into the master bedroom to look at herself critically in the mirror.

‘There’s not a hair out of place,’ Andrea said as she moved over to place a kiss on her head.

Andrea was right, of course. The bob was a little severe for Miranda’s liking, but her eldest had perfected the art of fierce business attire. It suited her profession and personality, though at times Miranda missed the line backer strut of her early teens. She still couldn’t believe there was a lawyer in the family, although perhaps she would need one before the night was over.

‘I can’t say the same for myself, however,’ said Cassidy as she looked down critically at her ripped jeans and a pair of boots that had seen better days. ‘I’m going to grab a quick shower,’ she said, giving them each a quick kiss on the cheek before heading in the direction of her old room.

‘I’ll make sure everything’s ready,’ Caroline said. ‘Drink?’

‘Wine,’ they replied in unison.

Caroline laughed and shook her head as she walked out. ‘You two never change!’ she called back.

Andrea slipped up beside Miranda and ran a comforting hand along her lower back. ‘When did they get so damn big?’ she asked quietly.

‘While we were busy working, I suppose,’ Miranda sighed.

‘Oh no, not tonight. Let’s go get you that drink,’ Andrea said, giving her a tap on the behind. ‘Perhaps another couple of rounds with my mother will cheer you up?’ she said with a wink.

‘That’s more likely to end in a murder,’ Miranda muttered as she trailed after her, adjusting her necklace as she shook off maudlin thoughts. She was so very proud of both of her daughters, but sometimes she wished she could go back in time just to hear them thundering around the house.

As they entered the kitchen, Caroline pressed an overly large glass into her hand. ‘Drink,’ Caroline ordered as she passed another one off to Andrea. ‘What on Earth possessed you to hold a dinner party? Don’t you usually do this at Nigel’s?’ 

‘Emily threw a bottle of wine on his favourite rug last time, we thought perhaps it was our turn,’ Andrea said smoothly before taking a sip from her glass.

‘You know Mom can never do anything by halves,’ Caroline said with an eye-roll as she looked around at the overly extravagant catering. ‘You look like you’re about to host fifty people.’

‘It was that or letting her cook, and you know how well that turns out when it’s anyone other than immediate family,’ Andrea said.

Caroline shuddered. ‘I’ll never forget the lamb rack debacle of 2013.’

‘Vegans!’ Miranda hissed. ‘How was I supposed to know everyone was suddenly going _vegan_.’

‘You _ask_ ,’ Elizabeth said as she entered, wearing a pair of slacks and tidy blouse, clearly from her own suitcase.

Miranda rolled her eyes skyward. 

‘Do you see what I have to put up with when I visit?’ Elizabeth said to Caroline, waving her hand in the direction of Miranda’s face. ‘What if I died suddenly? How would she feel then?’ 

‘ _Relieved_ ,’ Miranda said, earning her a smack from Andrea.

‘We should bury them next to each other so they can continue this for all eternity,’ Caroline said to Andy with a grin.

Andy barked out a laugh as the doorbell sounded. 

‘Someone’s _early_ ,’ Miranda growled.


End file.
